


i can't get close enough to you

by kismetNemesis



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Blowjobs, Frottage, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 12:59:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6908212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kismetNemesis/pseuds/kismetNemesis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Adam set out to find friends and maybe a boyfriend at university, he got a little more than he bargained for. Luckily, he's an excellent negotiator.</p><p>Non-magic college AU where the raven gang meets when they are college-aged. Adam/Gansey centric, eventual Ronan/Adam/Gansey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i can't get close enough to you

**Author's Note:**

> Hope hides inside a cliche  
> Like a nod of understanding  
> From the power who first felt this way  
> How can I turn away?
> 
> -Chairlift, "Moth to the Flame"

It was a verdant luxury to only have one job. Adam could go into work and know, even on his bad days, that he would actually be done when his shift was over. The rest of his time was devoted to studying, and he only had a few classes per semester. High school had been hell in comparison. Sometimes, Adam still jerked awake at five expecting to spend a few hours catching up on homework, only to remember he had whole afternoons free to complete his work now. It wasn’t like he wasn’t busy, but he wasn’t trying to work twenty-five hours in a twenty-four-hour day any more. 

He’d also made a friend at work. Ronan Lynch was in charge of driving the trucks full of the plants Adam planted to their correct destinations, and helping with unloading. Technically, he was just supposed to drop Adam off and pick him up, but he often stayed and sat with Adam as he worked. Adam suspected that he just had nothing better to do. He wasn’t at school with Adam, or anywhere. His main passion seemed to be cars.

Since Adam had been a mechanic in high school, they had an easy foundation for conversation that soon bore more varied fruit. Adam learned that Ronan had two brothers, one that he liked and one that he really, really didn’t; that he had a pet bird named Chainsaw; and that he lived with his best friend since high school, Gansey.

“Does Gansey have more than one name?” Adam asked one day, installing a bunch of petunias into the patch of dirt where they’d get the best light. 

“Yeah, but I keep telling him to get rid of the rest.” Ronan was lying idly on a sunny patch of sidewalk, like a cat. He looked content, but also like he might claw you if you came too close. Adam was beginning to understand that this wasn’t personal. It was just the kind of aura that Ronan gave off.

“Any relation to _the_ Ganseys?” Adam inquired, intending to joke. There had been a Gansey recently elected senator, from a long line of rich, famous Ganseys. 

“Are you kidding me? This is Dick Campbell Gansey III I’ve been fucking spilling the secrets of for weeks, man.”

Adam froze, petunia stuck a few feet above the ground. He was suddenly very aware of his heartbeat.

“And here I thought he was just a history nerd with an awful fashion sense,” he said, trying not to let on how much this revelation had shocked him. “I was on the brink of asking you for his number. Thank god you stopped me in time.” 

“Thank god,” Ronan echoed. 

“Can you imagine someone like me with someone like him? I’d be afraid to use the wrong fork, even if we were eating soup, or, like, making out.”

“Ha.” It wasn’t even really a laugh. Adam’s heart rate kicked up. He’d tried to subtly slip the whole bisexual thing into conversation before, but there was a chance Ronan didn’t know yet, and was about to do something awful. Whatever. Adam had lost closer acquaintances.

“Would you go for a guy like him?” Adam carefully avoided Ronan’s gaze, finally putting the petunia in its new home.

“I don’t know if there is anyone quite like him,” Ronan replied. “He always says that the guys I go for aren’t good enough for me.” Though Adam still wasn’t looking at Ronan, he could feel the atmosphere between them relax.

He hadn’t been kidding about asking for this Gansey’s number. Ronan’s stories had conjured an image of a short, studious young man with very singular focus and a rare but intense adventurous side. Ronan always spoke in nearly reverent tones about the times they drag raced, or set things on fire.

“Besides, I don’t even know if he’s into guys,” Ronan continued. “He might just not be into anyone. He went on two dates total in high school and they were, quote, “the most perilously anxious” events of his life.” They both laughed, but Adam felt a stab of affection for Gansey. He hadn’t exactly had the best times with girls or boys in high school either. 

Adam finally got up to get the next set of flowers, and saw that Ronan’s fists were clenched beside him. Adam frowned. The hard set of his mouth didn’t match his relatively lighthearted tone, and Adam realized something with a sudden flash of understanding: Ronan must like Gansey himself. Adam could hardly imagine the pain of liking someone who could be straight, let alone mixing that with the intimidation of _Richard Campbell Gansey III_. 

This was all a little too intense for a workplace environment. Adam busied himself with plants, and resolved to stay out of Gansey and Ronan’s way. 

-

Two weeks later, Adam decided to go to a party. 

He was not the sort for parties, usually. He’d always been too busy, or too shy, but lately he had been trying to get distance from those parts of himself. The single job was an attempt at not being too busy, and Ronan was part of the attempt at being less shy. The other parts included striking up a camaraderie with Blue Sargent, the only other person of color in his mandatory and tragically whitewashed English class, and Noah Czerny, who always got coffee at the same time and place as him. 

It was Noah who had invited him to the party, but Noah was nowhere to be seen about forty minutes in. Adam had enjoyed his brief conversations with Noah’s other friends, but now he had drifted into the kitchen to see if he could find more soda or chips. He still wouldn’t turn down free food if he could help it. 

There was already someone in the kitchen, sitting somewhat forlornly at the table. He wore a white t-shirt and ripped blue jeans, but something about the way he wore them made them seem expensive. Maybe it was their absolute spotlessness, or the way this boy picked at them, like he was unused to the way they hugged his frame. And hug him they did. He had broad shoulders and frankly unfairly defined muscles. He was clutching a bottle of beer like his life depended on it.

“Hi,” said Adam cautiously. The boy started and gave him a distracted, automatic smile. Adam mentally shrugged and walked over to plunder the bottles of soda guarding the countertops. He was fully prepared to voyage back out into the sea of strangers without another word, but when he turned back around the boy was staring at him. “Do I have something on my shirt?”

“No, no! I just, uh, like your pants,” he stammered. Adam glanced down at his jeans and raised an eyebrow. The boy blushed, which made Adam think it might be a sincere compliment, even if it was not really a compliment to his pants. 

“I like your shirt,” said Adam, feeling an unusual and welcome surge of confidence. “Want some soda?” 

“No, thank you. But don’t feel obligated to leave just yet.” Every word out of his mouth oozed politeness. It made Adam feel like he was lucky to be receiving his attention. Adam sat down across from the boy, who looked delighted.

“What’s your name?” Adam asked. Somehow, this question threw him off. 

“Pardon me if this sounds odd, but I’d rather not tell you. You see, I’m kind of trying to not be myself tonight.” Adam didn’t really know what to do with that, but he nodded, and the boy- who Adam decided to call Shoulders- continued. “I’m in a bit of a rough place right now,” Shoulders admitted. “Don’t you ever just want to take a day off from being you?”

“Yes,” said Adam, because it was true, though today was not one of those days for Adam. Today Adam was feeling like himself, but more. “I promise I won’t try to guess your identity from this- but how do you know Noah?”

“We’re in a class together,” Shoulders replied, after careful consideration. Adam liked that he was careful, and he liked the way he ran a thumb along his bottom lip as he thought. It did have the unfortunate side effect of forcing Adam’s attention to his mouth, but who was he kidding? It was that or the damn shoulders.

“I actually met him at a coffee shop,” said Adam. “Hey, why don’t we do it like that? Fact for fact. That way we can still have a conversation without starting from a place you’re not comfortable. Fair trade.”

“I like that.” Shoulders’ eyes were sparkling. Adam couldn’t tell if he was especially into the game or if Adam was just that charming.

“You can ask a question now.”

“If you could go back in time to any historical period, what would you choose?”

“Hmm. Unusual opener. I have to say, I like living in modern times. Can I go to the future instead?”

“I don’t see why not. I’d go to fifteenth-century Wales.” 

“Very specific.”

“I’ve already been to modern-day Wales,” said Shoulders. He looked wistful. 

“Careful, I didn’t even ask for that one,” Adam warned. “I’ll figure out that you’re Clark Kent in no time.” Truly, the Wales comment had already sent Adam spiraling down speculation. He had to be reasonably well-off, to have traveled out of the country, unless that was where he was from. His speech patterns were a little weird. Maybe that was down to American English as a second language.

“If anything, I’m Superman,” Shoulders said, his shy smile at odds with his pronouncement. It was a noticeably different smile than the one Adam had caught a glimpse of earlier. It thrilled Adam a little to think that he might be getting to see a secret side of this boy.

“Then what’s your kryptonite?” 

“Right now? It’s-” He started to reply, then cut himself off mid-sentence. He bit his lip, but then made deliberate eye contact with Adam. “Right now, it’s your smile.” Adam was unable to keep himself from bursting out into laughter. 

“Oh my god.”

“God, was that too forward? I apologize, I’ll remove myself-”

“No, that was cute. But it was probably the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard.” 

“You do have a nice smile. And a nice laugh.” He seemed to be recovering admirably. Adam felt slightly giddy.

“Well, your shoulders are just unfair,” Adam told him. After taking a sip of his drink, he continued, “I think my kryptonite is probably orange soda.” Shoulders twisted his head to look at his own arms, as if that would explain what Adam meant. 

“I’ve lost track of whose turn it is,” Shoulders said, mysteriously immune to the hypnotic powers of his own biceps. 

“It’s yours.”

“What’s something you think people would be surprised to know about you?”

“Besides being bisexual? I was a mechanic in high school.”

“Wow. Me too. On, um, the sexuality front. Not the mechanic thing. But that’s marvelous! I didn’t know they even hired high schoolers to do things like that.” Adam felt a familiar pang at the way he stumbled over his words. It was sometimes hard to say out loud, but the kitchen was narrowing down to a world for just the two of them. 

 

“They don’t, often. It was sort of an under the table deal.” His eyes widened in genuine shock. Adam got the sense that he was a bit sheltered. “You have nice eyes,” Adam added, because he could.

“Thank you. And I’m allergic to wasps.”

“That’s awful.”

-

They continued on in a similar fashion for a few more hours. Their knowledge of each other mounted slowly, like a snowdrift. Most often the questions were what-ifs and favorites, but sometimes they were unexpectedly personal. Adam found himself opening up with more ease than he’d had maybe ever. Over time, it became clear that Shoulders had definitely grown up more innocently than Adam, but he wasn’t totally naïve, either. He was flirting like a champ, but not smoothly enough to indicate that he did it on a regular basis.

Adam really, really liked him. 

Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was long past midnight. Time actually had flown as they were having fun, and so had most of the guests. Chatter from the next room was markedly quieter. Adam watched him fiddle with the label of his beer bottle, which he had evidently been holding on to for more than two hours now.

“So that’s why I’m never letting my sister pick out birthday gifts again,” Shoulders was finishing. Adam nodded, more to acknowledge that he had spoken than anything.

“It’s late.” Shoulders glanced at his own watch and looked taken aback. 

“Christ, it really is.” Neither of them made a move to get up from the table. Shoulders yawned, stretching his back muscles and exposing a stripe of stomach, and Adam made up his mind.

“Do you want to sleep over at my place? Noah can vouch that it’s like five minutes away. And also that I’m not a serial killer or something.”

“Uh...”

“We don’t have to do anything,” Adam reassured him quickly. “I’m just concerned for your safety.”

“No, no. I’d like to do something.” Adam shivered in anticipation, despite himself. He wasn’t the least bit tired. “I just don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“I just invited you. I’d say you have plenty of time.”

They grinned at each other for a few seconds before getting up and gathering their things. Adam noticed a thick, well-used leather journal in Shoulders’ bag. It must be important, if he’d taken it to the party. Adam himself always liked to pack light. That was a question for later, though.

Making the trek out into the living room, they passed the few remaining guests, who seemed to be in quiet, private conversations themselves. Some of them waved at Adam, and some of them waved at Shoulders. Adam was reminded that he was an actual person who attended Adam’s university, not just some kind of handsome sign from the bisexual gods.

“I knew you two would hit it off!” Adam jumped. It was Noah, smiling the knowing smile of a matchmaker, or at least a good host. 

“For once, you were right,” Adam conceded. “Will you tell him that I’m not a serial killer?”

“He’s safe as life,” confirmed Noah. Shoulders nodded, but Adam didn’t think he’d been too worried. 

“Fantastic party,” Shoulders informed Noah, with the air of a Yelp reviewer. “Ten out of ten, would attend again.”

“Maybe I’ll see you next week?”

“See you in class, at least.” They bumped knuckles, Noah with confidence, Shoulders with concentration, both of them charming. Adam waved, and they emerged into the cool night air.

It hadn’t really struck Adam until now that he was the taller of the pair. In fact, Shoulders was pretty definitively on the short side. Something about him felt tall, though. He had a confident masculinity that didn’t come from his muscles alone, though they certainly helped. He was pinging all of preferences that Adam had told himself were jealousy in high school. Sure, he’d had all those pictures of male models for “inspiration.” 

Even though it was dark, and they were alone, and he had to lean down a little bit to grab Shoulders’ hand, it felt good to do something like that in public. He was going to have to lean down to kiss him, too. 

“I love the night,” said Shoulders. “It feels like magic.”

“Magic can be dangerous.”

“I know.” Adam thought he looked unusually serious, though he really didn’t know what usual looked like. 

“We’ve got each other as protection, though, don’t we?” Adam squeezed his hand. It was a very smooth hand. Adam felt a little self-conscious about his calluses, and worried that there might be dirt under his nails, but he pushed that aside. Tonight, they were both just strangers- new friends?- with no past and no attachments. They could be anyone, and in that they were equals.

“We do.”

“I trust you, Adam.” Adam felt a little burst of joy at his name being used. He’d read somewhere that using someone’s name more made them trust you. For a minute, he wished he knew a name to return, but he refrained from asking. He didn’t want the game to end. 

Eventually, they reached Adam’s threshold. Though he lived in a dorm, he had no roommate, something that was totally worth the extra money it cost. Adam sometimes spent an afternoon or two cleaning or just lying around, enjoying his own space. He had no one to answer to but himself. He could take as many handsome young men home with him as he wanted, but this was actually the first one. 

A hand on his elbow made him stop short at the doorway. He turned around to see Shoulders looking anxious.

“What’s up?” he asked, hushed in the tone late nights always seem to incur.

“This may seem cliche, but-” Shoulders stood on tiptoes to brush his lips against Adam’s. Adam took a moment to kiss back, not so much surprised as unprepared.

“What was cliche about it?”

 

“I wanted to kiss at the threshold,” he explained, looking away.

“Wait, are you not coming in?”

 

“Oh, no! I’m still coming in, be assured! I don’t know, I’ve just never done that before. Also, I didn’t want to wait any longer to kiss you.” At that, Adam pushed him gently against the doorframe and leaned in for a deeper kiss, smiling against his mouth unconsciously. He melted under Adam’s touch, breathy and soft for all that he looked like he could be a model for some kind of masculine deodorant. 

Eventually they had to stop so that Adam could unlock the door. Until now they had been unhurried, leisurely, but now Adam couldn’t wait to get inside. Once the door finally swung open, Adam led the way, seeing his room through the eyes of a stranger. 

His single bed was pushed up against one wall, neatly made. His desk held several organized stacks of paper and his carefully-tended laptop. The stock dresser provided by the college had more than enough room for all his clothes, leaving an entire drawer open for random odds and ends. The book collection on his windowsill was rapidly growing, and he smiled down at the little houseplant he’d bought when he moved in. It kept him company while he studied. So far he was short of naming it, but he was definitely fonder of it than he should be.

Shoulders pulled himself up onto the bed with no preamble, asserting his presence with no hesitation. Adam didn’t mind- after all, the bed was where he wanted him- but he envied that ability to take action. Actually, now that he thought about it... nothing was stopping him from taking action himself.

Adam practically threw himself at the bed, pressing forward until Shoulders was squished against the wall. He responded enthusiastically, running his hands down Adam’s back and sighing appreciatively. 

When they broke apart for breath, he glanced belatedly around the room. 

“Nice place you have here. I like a man with a lot of books.”

“They’re mostly from secondhand shops,” Adam replied, unable to think of a wittier response when a hand was inching lower and lower past his waist.

“Even better.” They returned to making out, drifting to a horizontal position. Adam kissed his mouth, his cheek, his jaw. He seemed to like it when Adam let his teeth graze his neck. It had been a while since Adam had done this with anyone, and he’d missed getting off with someone else, sure, but he had almost forgotten just how nice it was to figure out what someone else liked, to catalogue what made them gasp or twitch.

It gave him an idea.

“Hey,” he whispered from the vicinity of his collarbone. “Fact for fact. What do you want to do?”

Shoulders’ hands stayed parked firmly on his ass even when Adam propped himself up to look at him. He was already red and breathing heavily, but he seemed to get even more flustered under Adam’s gaze.

“I want to give you a blowjob,” he said in a rush. The words seemed unfamiliar on his tongue, but there was no hesitation or reluctance in his voice. Adam concluded that he must not be one for dirty talk.

“Fact,” Adam replied, “I would like that too.” They smiled at each other, then Shoulders began wriggling out from under him and sliding off the bed. Adam mourned the loss of his hands, but was very willing to replace the sensation with the sight of him kneeling and removing his shirt. Damn, his muscles had actual definition. Adam thought of his own chest in unfavorable comparison for a second, but rejected the notion when he realized just how much it reminded him of his high school “jealousy.”

Shoulders was reaching for and undoing Adam’s fly, and Adam helped him by tugging his pants down himself. Shoulders paused.

“You good?” asked Adam. “We can do this on the bed, or not at all, if you want.” He shook his head frantically.

“No, I’m just savoring the moment,” said Shoulders, and Adam wanted to hide his face for a moment. It was one of the more flattering things that had been said to him in recent memory. He reached forward to somewhat awkwardly pat his head, and he made an approving noise. Experimentally, Adam took a soft handful of his hair. He swallowed visibly and leaned forward to drag down Adam’s underwear.

Adam was half-hard already, and with the application of tongue, he was rapidly approaching seventy-five percent. He was unable to stop the sounds that escaped him, and why should he? Shoulders was doing an enthusiastic if slightly inexpert job. Adam would give him an A+ for effort, and hell, an A+ for everything else, too. It was hard to be a tough grader when Shoulders took half of him into his mouth.

“God,” he managed to choke out, between trying to keep his hips still and relishing the wet slide against his skin. Again, he had an impulse to ask for his name, but this was hardly the time. For one thing, his mouth was a little too full to answer.

Adam looked down at him, marveling at how his arms worked at rubbing both himself and Adam. Through a haze of arousal, he wondered if it took coordination, like patting your head and rubbing your stomach at the same time. 

Eventually, he pulled off and sat back a little. He ran his thumb across his lip, just as he had back at the party. After giving Shoulders a moment to stand up and shake out his legs a little, Adam grabbed his hips and dragged him back in. Even through jeans the warm pressure of his thighs was wonderful. Adam let his thrusts go unchecked, since the danger of choking him had passed.

Though Adam could have rutted against him all night, he was still pleased when Shoulders moved to remove the rest of his clothes. Adam took off his own shirt, flinging it aside with much less care than he usually exercised. 

Soon they were both naked, and Adam couldn’t resist a little more kissing before they got back on the bed. His partner looked like a living statue, impossibly chiseled and handsome. Adam wasted no time crossing the metaphorical red velvet rope and touching the art. 

Pushing Shoulders back down into the mattress and feeling no resistance from his capable muscles was heady. Neither of them were concentrating on kissing any more, instead panting through open mouths. Adam didn’t know if Shoulders wanted to do anything more complicated. He had condoms discreetly tucked away in his desk drawer, but decided not to bring it up unless he asked. There had been quite enough getting on and off the bed for one night. 

Adam reached down between them to jerk both of them, and his partner swore in pleasure. Now that his mouth was freer, he was a lot more vocal.

“Fuck, Adam- this is- ah- spectacular.” Adam couldn’t believe he had the brainpower for multi-syllabic words. All Adam could think was _yes, god yes._ Their hips found a rhythm, the pressure building. Belatedly Adam wondered if he should have returned the favor and gone down on Shoulders too, but he was getting awfully close, and there were no complaints, only frantic encouragements.

Adam tightened his grip and sped up, and to his surprise Shoulders came first, thrusts breaking into disjointed stutters and eventually stilling. He didn’t hesitate before knocking Adam’s hand out of the way and taking over, so it wasn’t much longer until Adam was coming himself. 

Both of them broke apart, sweaty and spent. Shoulders caught one of Adam’s hands in his and lifted it to his mouth for a kiss, an oddly formal gesture that still made Adam smile. 

It was a simple, satisfying pleasure to lie on his bed with nothing to do but gently kiss a cute boy in comfortable silence until he finally dragged himself up to dump the bedspread in the laundry and grab another blanket. It was thinner and smaller, but it would do fine on a warm evening with a warm body to help keep the temperature livable.

“That was lovely,” Shoulders told him, accepting the washcloth Adam handed him and cleaning himself up. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Adam replied, trying out a suggestive eyebrow raise. Shoulders actually seemed to blush a little, which was funny coming from someone wiping cum off his stomach. “Uh, do you want pajamas?” he asked, hoping he would say no. Adam only had one pair of ragged flannel pajama bottoms to give, and it would probably be weird for only one of them to wear it. Mercifully, Shoulders shook his head, and Adam let himself relax fully. All the fatigue that their little game had held at bay was coming back with a vengeance. 

They curled up together with an intimacy that Adam didn’t want to admit he had been longing for. Adam put aside thoughts of how much he was going to miss this the next night, breathed in the smell of shampoo and sweat, and fell asleep.

-

Adam woke with a cramp in his arm and the pleasant sight of Shoulders still naked and vulnerable in the morning light. He seemed much realer at eight a.m. than he had the night before. For some reason Adam felt slightly creepy watching him sleep, so he turned over and let himself drift into a half-awake daze until he felt light kisses on the back of his neck.

“Good morning, Adam.”

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“Oh, indubitably. Much better than I usually sleep, in fact.” Adam moved himself back around to face him. He was smiling, but his eyes were serious.

“Is something wrong?”

“No! I’m... afraid I’ve done something wrong.” 

“I can’t think of anything,” Adam reassured him. He bit off the impulse to add more exuberant praise. It would do nothing for Shoulders but tie him down to Adam. There had been no discussion of attaching strings or not, but Adam thought it best to err on the side of freedom. It was like Cinderella. Eventually he would turn back into a pumpkin.

“I worry it was unfair of me not to tell you my name.”

“It’s alright if you don’t want to,” said Adam, though internally he was thinking _fuck pumpkins if a name comes with continued access to those shoulders_. 

“I want to. I suppose I was trying to run away from who I am, dressing like that and not giving you my name. The thing is, I’m not exactly, ah, experienced with those of your gender.” For some reason, Adam latched onto the least dramatic part of the sentence. 

“Dressing like what?” 

“I just don’t usually dress like that.” He seemed reluctant to elaborate. Adam let it go. What could a person wear regularly besides t-shirts and jeans? Intellectually, Adam knew there were thousands of options, but his image of Shoulders was set somewhere between a white t-shirt and the pale expanse of his chest. 

“I don’t mind.”

“What, my fashion sense?”

“No, that I’m your first. Or one of the first?”

“Adam, you are a treasure. Which is why I’m hoping we can continue our acquaintance.” 

“Yeah,” said Adam softly. His heart beat in an encore of the anticipation and fervor of the night before.

“I’m Gansey,” said Gansey, and Adam froze. 

For a second, he was unable to process the implications, but they soon came flooding in. This was Gansey, Richard Campbell Gansey III, rich, powerful, anxious, adventurous, and the object of Ronan Lynch’s affections. The one person Adam had vowed to stay away from, and therefore the one person who had shown up and systematically broken through all of Adam’s defenses. 

Shit.

Gansey was starting to look concerned, so Adam forced himself to speak up. 

“You know a Ronan Lynch, right?” There was no way there was more than one Gansey at their school, or even in the state, so the question was slightly ridiculous, but Adam sent one last plea to the coincidence gods.

“He’s my best friend!” Gansey replied, practically lighting up with happiness. Oh, god. Adam could already feel sick pangs of jealousy. This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted to do this.

“We work together.”

“You’re Adam _Parrish_ ,” said Gansey. Adam was beginning to detect his own note of panic creeping in. “The one Ronan is obsessed with.”

Whiplash. “Wait, what?”

Gansey clapped a hand over his mouth. Adam put his own hands to his temples, the past few months playing out like a montage: Ronan staying with him when the job didn’t require it, Ronan casually mentioning a song he thought Adam might like, Ronan glancing away when Adam turned around quickly... in retrospect, it was as obvious as Ronan’s crush on Gansey. 

“That was not really my secret to tell,” Gansey admitted. “He never even told me that. I just knew he liked you.” The way Gansey was looking at Adam made him feel like Gansey thought he was meeting standards that he wasn’t. “I can’t fault him for that. I find myself in a similar predicament.”

“He doesn’t even know you could be into me,” said Adam quietly, in lieu of actually responding to what Gansey was saying. 

“God, this is almost Shakespearean in its complexity,” said Gansey, laughing a little. Adam couldn’t laugh. Gansey was wrong. It wasn’t complicated. Adam was a homewrecker. Or- he was something, and not something good. Gansey clearly didn’t know that Ronan liked him, but once he found out, Adam had no doubt he would fly to him like the heroine of a romantic novel. 

“Gansey,” Adam began.

“Adam,” Gansey replied. “I am very fond of you. However-”

“Ronan likes _you_ ,” Adam said, trying to come out calm but mostly sounding blunt. Gansey blinked. His mouth opened and closed. From afar, it struck Adam how odd it was that they were doing this in such a familiar and post-coital environment. 

“Are you sure?” asked Gansey finally. 

“He never stops talking about you,” said Adam. Some part of him knew this was the right thing to do. Another part of him would have said anything to regain control after Gansey’s “however.” He guessed there were some parts of him that were harder to leave behind than others. “You should go.”

“What? Why?” The hurt in Gansey’s eyes was painful to look at.

“To see Ronan.”

“You’re right that I ought to, but I don’t have to go _now_.”

“Go.” 

Gansey finally obeyed, and Adam averted his eyes as he got dressed and gathered his things. He wanted to go away, to go back to sleep. He wished this wasn’t where he lived. It had tripled in shabbiness the moment Gansey had said his name. 

Adam heard Gansey clear his throat behind him, and turned around to see Gansey offering, of all things, a business card.

“Call me?” he asked, voice plaintive. Somehow, Adam doubted that this was what he usually looked like while handing out cards. 

Wordlessly, he accepted the card, and Gansey gave him one last reflexive smile before disappearing.

**Author's Note:**

> I say I want things to be easy for Adam and Gansey, but I just don't put my money where my mouth is, do I? 
> 
> The next chapter should be up at some point, very likely within the month- I've already started it and have it all planned out.
> 
> Hey, here's a word of advice. Never have the POV character not know their sexual partner's name, especially in a same-pronoun situation. Sorry if it reads like absolute hell.
> 
> Thanks to @ganseyandadam on twitter for plot advice!


End file.
